


Tarot: the Fool

by HeRell_77



Category: Original Work
Genre: Abusive Relationships, Anal Sex, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Bookstores, Bullying, Clairvoyance, First Dates, First Love, Frottage, Love at First Sight, M/M, May/December Relationship, Oral Sex, Orphans, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Paranormal, Past Abuse, Past Rape/Non-con, Running Away, Slow Burn, Small Towns, Street Rats, Tattoos, tattoo artists
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-12-17
Updated: 2019-04-15
Packaged: 2019-09-20 21:41:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 15
Words: 21,603
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17030514
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HeRell_77/pseuds/HeRell_77
Summary: A clairvoyant gypsy, a bookstore owner, and the Romany mafia. What could possibly go wrong?Zin is a clairvoyant street kid, trying to find freedom from an abusive man he'd thought he could trust. Along with Her Majesty, his three-legged, blind kitten, he gets taken in by David- an ex-army bookstore owner with a soft spot for kittens and lost boys.But can Zin work past his traumatic past, to give himself to David without holding anything back- even the gifts of his mind that have caused nothing but trouble his whole life? And can David learn to trust his own growing feelings for Zin, despite their differences, before it's too late and he loses Zin to a figure from his past?





	1. The Kitten and the Someone

**Author's Note:**

> Hi all! As with my other stories, this is a M/M (gay) romance, with explicit sex scenes. Not PWP. Enjoy :):)

DAVID—

I stared down at the sleeping man in my bed, shaking my head in annoyance. I had never understood my penchant for sticking my nose where it didn't belong and this was one example of that. The guy needed medical attention, but when I had lifted him up from the dirty alley ground and offered to take him to the hospital, he had adamantly refused. Worse: he had struggled and fought against me, ready to bolt, until I promised him I wouldn't drag his ass to the hospital. 

So now here I was, trying my best to administer medical aid to a beaten, half-starved kid, all because I couldn't keep myself to my own damn self. 

At first I had thought it was just a small pile of dirty laundry someone had thrown away. Until it twitched and there was a groan just as Ricky's foot landed with a soft _thunk!_

Ricky and his posse of the young, rich and spoiled surrounded the pile, taking turns kicking at it. It was proven even further to not be a pile of clothes when each hit landed on something solid beneath the dirty clothes. 

" _What_ the _fuck?!_ " I yelled, advancing on the little pricks. All five looked up at me, angry that I had interrupted whatever the fuck they thought they had been doing. 

Ricky was the son of the town mayor, and as such the bastard was untouchable. He could probably get away with murder, and had spent much of his youth pushing the limits of the law. I knew at least one girl in town who refused to be alone with the prick. And his little posse of dicks followed him like baby ducks. 

"Back up, old man," Ricky growled, his foot planted on the now-silent form on the ground, as if staking his claim. "This ain't none of your business."

"Like fuck it isn't," I hissed, advancing until I was nose-to-nose with the kid. He was barely 20 and he was a big fucker. But I outweighed him by at least 50 pounds, and I was at least 3 inches taller than him. I also had a bit of Uncle Sam's training in my back pocket, so I knew I could lay the kid out in a matter of a few moves if it came down to it. But from the way his friends were backing up, and his eyes began darting back to them, I knew it wouldn't come to that. "You're in my alley, you little pricks. Get out. Now."

"Whatever. Fuck." Ricky spit, the nasty ass loogie landing way too close to my boots for my comfort. "We were done anyways."

Within seconds, the spoiled fucks were gone and I was left with a silent pile of stinky _someone_. 

I had been shocked to hear, rather than a groan of pain, a soft meowing. And then the form turned over and I gasped. The boy (I thought he was a boy, at least— feminine face, but short hair and a much more lithe, willowy body than I'd seen on any woman) was young, and beyond that I couldn't tell much more due to the grime, blood, and swelling that covered his poor face. But the dark black eyes staring up at me showed an ancient, dark kind of sadness, despite the obvious youth in the rest of the boy.

Wrapped in the boy's arms was a tiny, once-white kitten. The animal had three working legs, one that looked like it had been put through a meat grinder, and two black, bloody holes where eyes should be. I would have gagged at the sight if the poor animal hadn't mewed pitifully again. 

And that was how I got to the point where I was standing above my own bed, staring down at a strange boy who was rubbing dirt and blood and God knew what else into my sheets, trying to figure out the best way to get at the injuries I knew lay beneath his clothes. 

I pulled out my phone, dialing Ben and putting the phone to my ear. The man was just downstairs, but I didn't want to leave the kid in my apartment alone. I lived in the studio apartment above the combination bookstore/coffee shop I owned. Ben was the shift lead for the store- Boots and Books- and I knew he was getting off soon. 

"Yeah, boss?" he answered after the third ring. "If you're asking me to stay late, the answer is hell no. I have the new Dean Koontz calling my name at home."

"Ah, no," I muttered, watching as the kitten in the boy's hands squirmed to try to get more comfortable on his chest. The creature's eyes had obviously been bleeding at some point, but they were now just black, oozing sores. "But I do need a favor. It's an emergency or I wouldn't ask... Can you come up to my place?"

"Now, boss, we've talked about this. I ain't a slut. You gotta buy me at _least_ one dinner before I put out, and it better be one _helluva_ linguine for me to—"

"Fucking hell, Ben," I growled, rolling my eyes as he cackled almost maniacally over the phone. "Get your ass up here."

I pressed end on the phone just as the kid groaned and shifted in my bed. I leaned over, lifting the kitten gently from his grip and setting the thing down near his feet. The little animal seemed spooked for a moment, and then it shuffled around before laying down on top of the kid's left foot. 

As gently as I could, and with as much efficiency as I could manage, I lifted the kid and worked his jacket from his body. It was disgusting and smelled of things I didn't really want to name. His shirt was next, and it joined the burn pile his jacket had started on the ground. Just as I reached for his pants, his hands came up to grip my wrists. He stared up at me, those eyes as black as a winter night sky, the whites red with exhaustion, pain, and sleep deprivation. His hands on my wrists would have been almost painful, if the kid had more than the strength it took him to hold onto me. 

"Who is that at the door?" the boy gasped, the words heavily stilted with an accent I couldn't even begin to place. 

A moment later, there was a light, hesitant knock at the door and I glanced toward it before staring back at the kid. 

_'Cause that isn't creepy as hell._

How could he have possibly heard Ben before he even knocked?

"He's a friend. He's gonna take the kitten to the vet. It's fine; you're safe, kid."

The boy dropped his hands from my wrists, nodding reluctantly as he fell back against the pillows again. 

I waited another moment to be sure the kid didn't make a run for it and hurt himself further before I made my way to the door. 

"Heya boss," Ben mumbled when I opened the door and he stepped into my front room, looking around in confusion. "What's the 911? 'Cause seriously, if you're just horny, I know I'm gay but that doesn't mean I'll let just anyone tap this— "

"Benjamin," I growled, holding the cat out. The man stared down at the creature with a look of horror, pity and anger. "I need you to take this to the vet. Marc's husband Landon runs the one right on Peach that should still be open. If not, they have that emergency number posted on the door, or you could probably just call Marc's cell— "

"What the _fuck_ did you do to the poor thing?" Ben hissed, grabbing the cat from my arms. He cradled the tiny thing to his chest and I grimaced as the thing meowed pitifully. 

"I didn't do shit, and you know it," I groused, rolling my eyes. "Just take the cat, please. Tell Landon I'll cover any expenses."

"Why can't you do it?" Ben asked in confusion, just before I heard a light shuffling from behind me and Ben's eyes were drawn to the sound. 

I had a horrible idea that the kid was standing, half naked, his pants unbuttoned, looking like death warmed over, right behind me. And of course, when I turned, there he was in all his five-foot-nothing glory as he glared us down. 

"Get Ryder to go with you to Landon's," the kid mumbled, making both me and Ben raise our eyebrows. And then, with the kid's cryptic words delivered, he was turning around and limping back to my partially out of sight bed. 

"... Is he a friend of Ryder's?" Ben asked after a few moments. I snorted and shook my head. 

"I have no idea. I don't think so."


	2. No Doctors

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I was lost. Again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> <3<3

ZIN—

I was lost. Again. 

And I don't mean I was lost, like I didn't know where I was- although there was that too. God only knew where I had managed to find myself this time. It was a small town, and the welcome I had received was less than warm. But at least, as far as I could tell, I was as far from Lyle as I could get without crossing over to the other side. He would never look for me in this quaint town with its cute little store fronts and perfectly sheared shrubbery. It wasn't exactly what I was used to. 

But no, I wasn't lost in the where, but the when. 

People always say to live in the moment. To be in the moment. And I try, I really do. But then I get stuck, and I'm living a few moments in the future, and then people start to give me _that look_. The one that either means they think I belong in a nuthouse or a carnival act. Or the one I hated the most: the awe, reverence, the Goddamned worship when they realized what was happening. 

Now I was in the middle of nowhere, staring up at a gruff, gorgeous, heavily-tattooed man as he glared down at me and growled. 

He actually growled. I've never heard a human growl before.

At least, I thought I was _now_ stuck here with this man. It felt like _now_ , but it wouldn't be the first time I had been wrong. And it wouldn't be the last. 

"And why the fuck not?" he said, his voice deep, gruff, and sending shivers down my spine despite my cracked ribs and various other broken and bruised bits. The man was beautiful- if that word could be used to describe a man. He was in his early thirties, maybe a bit younger, with buzzed, blonde hair, a bit longer on the top than the sides, dark green eyes, and dimples. For such a fierce-looking, gruff man, he actually had dimples even when he frowned. 

I wanted to lick them. Run my tongue up the side of his lips and see how those little indents tasted. The sudden thought was all at once shocking and titillating. 

He was also heavily tattooed, both arms dark with entwining art down to his fingers, and from what I could see of his collarbone, above the edge of his t-shirt, the tattoos ran under there too. 

I wanted to lick those as well. Find out if they covered the rest of his body. 

"Please, no hospitals. No doctors. I'm fine. I just need bandages around my-"

"— You _need_ a fucking doctor," he growled again, rolling his eyes when I pulled away as he tried to reach for me. "Ricky really did a number on you. I can see the bruises around your eyes already- your nose is fucked. And you have at least one broken rib, if your breathing and the bruising is any indication. But I ain't a doctor, kid."

I couldn't tell him that the ribs were from Ricky- who I assumed was the asshole leader of the gang who had been finding out what a cat's screams sounded like-but the broken nose, and a few of the other bruises, were a few days old. Although how many days, I honestly couldn't say. 

The days, hours, minutes had been blurring together even worse than was normal for me for what felt like weeks since I ran from Lyle. After all my careful planning, saving up any money I could hide away that Lyle wouldn't notice was missing, hiding it in the broken tile above the fridge, trying to See the perfect time to run, I had fucked it all up at the last minute. I had gotten mouthy, and that had cost me everything. Everything except my life, although that wasn't worth much. Never really had been. 

"Fine," the man groused, shaking his head and stomping to the kitchen area. 

The apartment he had dragged me into after scaring away Ricky and his friends was a large studio-style, open home. The only wall space that wasn't covered in shelves of stacked books had doors or windows, and those had little cushioned bench seats- like reading nooks. Where I was sitting, on a four poster king bed with a heavy down comforter, was in a little alcove that afforded some privacy from the rest of the apartment. I could see three doors from where I was sitting- a bathroom, where I had showered after Ben had left, scrubbing day's old blood and grime from my aching body, the front door where Ben took the kitten out of earlier, and what I assumed was probably a closet near the bathroom. There was also the double glass doors that led out to a balcony, and I could see, from a quick glance out the window, that we were on the second floor. 

So I had my escape route. I prayed that there would be a fire escape, but it would work even without one. 

When I finished my shower, I had spent a few minutes simply reveling in the warm towel I wrapped around my waist and the clean smell of the man's soap coating my body. It was like heaven after God only knew how long living in my own filth, unable to stop long enough to rest and eat, much less find a place to clean up, to wipe Lyle's left-over spunk from my body, the blood that had dried on my skin, and various other filthy things I didn't want to think of. 

The man had given me a pair of checkered pajama pants and a t-shirt with some metal band logo on it I didn't recognize. Both were at least four sizes too big for me, but the pants had a drawstring, so they didn't fall down around my ankles like they wanted to. I had kept the shirt off when I exited the bathroom, knowing the man would want to bandage my ribs. 

The man came back from the kitchen toting a white box with a red cross on the top, and a bottle of cold water. He handed the water to me, along with two white pills. I took them without question, praying to any deity listening that they worked quickly. 

"Thank you, David," I sighed when I managed to practically inhale half the bottle of water along with the pills.

The man studied me for a moment, his frown, and those damn dimples, deepening as he stared. 

"How do you know my name?" he asked as he tore his eyes away and sat on the bed at my feet. He set the box down and opened it, but then stopped to watch me as I answered. 

I froze, but only for a moment. I had become almost expert at lying. 

"Ben said it," I lied. 

David continued to watch me for another minute before he shook his head, huffed out a breath, and pulled a thick roll of gauze from the box. 

"Whatever," he mumbled. He took the bottle of water from my hands and set it on the nightstand a few inches to my left. "I'm going to bind up your ribs and probably put a butterfly bandage on that cut on your eyebrow. I can try to do something about your nose, although I have no idea what..."

"Don't worry about my nose. It'll be fine," I answered, lifting my arms to make room for him, and gasping as searing pain speared my sides at the move. 

I had managed to mold my nose back into some semblance of what it should look like in front of the mirror in Lyle's bathroom before I left. It took me hours, and I passed out four times, but I managed it, and I knew it was already healed enough that if David tried to do anything to it, it would only make things worse. 

David grunted but made no other answer as he leaned forward, helping me to stand, and then began to wrap the gauze around my body. Despite his brusque attitude, his hands, soft where I had expected calluses, were gentle on my chest and abdomen as he worked. So close, I could smell him, and it was intoxicating. He smelled of old books, of coffee and vanilla and paper and ink. I wanted to drink the smell in, but my breaths were light and panting in pain as he worked, so I was barely able to enjoy the smell like my treacherous body wanted me to. 

My attraction to David was odd for me, and took me a bit by surprise. It wasn't as if I had never been attracted to a man- it was just really rare for me to be attracted to anyone, especially this strongly, and he wasn't exactly my usual type. But that may have been what drew me to him so strongly- that he was nothing like the prim, always perfectly styled, sadistic Lyle. No, David was a man who took care of his body, and then left it at that. He didn't fuss in the mirror for hours before leaving the house, he didn't spend hundreds of dollars on hair product and skin exfoliate. And despite his curt, grumpy demeanor, his hands on my skin were gentle, calming, almost tender; they weren't demanding, expectant, and angry. 

When he finished tying the gauze off around my abdomen, tight enough to draw a sharp breath of pain from me, he helped me to sit back in his bed. It took him only another few minutes to bandage the cut above my eyebrow, and then he was helping me to put the too-big shirt over my head and lean back against the pillows. But I knew I couldn't stay. 

Someone was coming to the door again. And I had been here too long.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let me know what you think!!


	3. That Bad

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "So I'm going to assume you don't want to press charges about the wallet? Fine. But do you know who did this to him? I'm going to give you the benefit of the doubt, mostly because I know you and I know you wouldn't do this, but also because of that damn look on your face. But do you know why the doctor says he looks like he's been hit by a truck, repeatedly? Do you know why we found him passed out, half-dead behind Conrad's Diner?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **POSSIBLE TRIGGER WARNING: this chapter contains descriptions of a doctor exam that mentions rape. No details are given, but the injuries are noted. **

DAVID—

"God fucking _dammit_!" I roared as the lamp on the nightstand next to my bed crashed to the ground. I couldn't tell in the dark of it's-way-too-early-to-be-alive, but the crashing, shattering sound told me the thing would be beyond repair. 

The lamp was a cheap knock off I had bought at some flea market Noah, the local out-loud-and-proud, had dragged me to. If there was a flea market or farmer's market the man didn't drag me to, I'd wonder if he was dying. Noah lived to seek out the new, unique and exciting, and he never went anywhere alone. Luckily, our little group of misfits was big enough that he rarely had to fight to get anyone to go with him. And if there wasn't anyone available, he always had his secret weapon: those pouting lips that could make a sociopath give in to anything he wanted. 

Our little group of friends consisted of the men and women who worked or lived around my bookstore and the tattoo parlor next door. Noah and Leslie worked in the tattoo parlor that Ryder—who was possibly the biggest man I had ever met—owned and managed. Ben and Ryder hated each other, but Ben and Noah were practically inseparable. Leslie was stunning, with a body that any pinup model would envy. She was also covered from neck to toe in tattoos and piercings. 

Besides proximity, what brought us together was probably more than just mutual affection. All of us were, in some way or another, queer. And being gay in such a small town in the deep south, banding together just made sense. 

Leslie would sleep with anyone as long as they were breathing, though she had some issues with commitment and very rarely made it past the second date, if she managed to get there. 

Noah was bi as well, although he seemed to lean more towards men than women. He was also annoyingly beautiful. He looked like a model from the cover of a rock magazine. His long, strawberry blonde hair surrounded a soft but masculine face that had even me doing double takes every once in a while, and he was far from my type.  

Ben was gay as gay went. He was barely able to talk to Leslie without blushing himself out of the room, because she inevitably was talking about her latest conquest, most of whom were women. We all knew his discomfort with anything to do with women went deeper than his sexuality, but we all left it alone. If he wanted to talk, we were here. But none of us would pry into something he didn't want to share. 

Because we wouldn't want the same thing happening to us. None of us was un-scarred by life.  

Ryder and I were both gay, but Ryder didn't do relationships. He did one night stands, and frequent ones at that. He and I had graduated high school together, and then joined the Army together immediately after, but after that we had gone very separate ways. Him to the Rangers, me to the Marines. I didn't see him again until I got out and back to the States ten years later, and he was here, back in our hometown of Maple Hollow, with a brand new tattoo parlor just next to and adjoining the bookstore I had bought. 

I snatched my buzzing phone up off the nightstand, where I had been trying to shut it up when I had knocked the lamp to the hardwood floor. Staring at the bright screen was like looking into the sun, but I squinted and blinked a few times and the name became clear.

"Why the fuck are you calling me at 2am, Jake?" I hissed groggily into the phone. 

Jacob was the new sheriff for Maple Hollow. He had only moved into town and taken the job a few months before, bringing his 3-year-old son Sam and a lot of baggage from his ex-wife Rose. He and I had crossed paths over the years overseas—he had been a Marine as well, and though we never worked together, we had known of each other and I had looked him up when I got back to the states. 

"Sorry, David, but I have a little..." He paused, coughing slightly, as if finding his words. "Can you come down to the urgent care on Main? I've got a kid here, beat to hell and back, and he's got your wallet on him. I'm hoping you know—"

"Fuck," I mumbled, scooting to the other side of the bed so I could get up without tearing my feet to shreds on the glass. "I'll be right there. Don't let him leave."

"...Got it," Jacob answered hesitantly. 

After bandaging the kid up, I had turned from him to answer the door. Bella, my only part-timer since Judy quit when she had her baby, had been asking some question or another about the inventory I had asked her to do. She had tried to call, but my phone had died and I hadn't noticed. I had turned back, after what must have been five minutes at most, and the kid was gone. I called for him a few times, checked the bathroom and even under the fucking bed, and he was just gone. 

I was annoyed, frustrated, and worried, but I shrugged it off. He wasn't my problem, and he obviously didn't want my help. 

I hadn't even noticed the little prick stole my wallet. 

After hanging up on Jacob, I yanked on a pair of worn jeans with at least one hole in them over my boxer briefs, then pulled a plain black t-shirt over my head and grabbed my keys. After shoving my feet into my boots and tying them up, I made my way to my truck. The urgent care center was only a couple of blocks away, but I had a feeling I wouldn't be coming back alone. 

Because, again, I couldn't help myself from sticking my nose in other people's shit. 

When I stepped into the urgent care center, a nurse with dark brown eyes and a calm, gentle smile looked up at me. She opened her mouth to greet me, but Jacob stepped into the room through the double doors and waved at the woman. 

"I got him, Londa," he said as he reached for me. I shook his hand and then followed as he led me back and towards one of the three private rooms in the center.

The boy was lying on the bed, his chest rising and falling steadily. He looked a bit better than he had when I first dragged him up to my apartment, but only because he was cleaner after his shower. His face was still covered in bruises, his left eye swollen, and his face gaunt and pale. 

He was asleep, or unconscious, but he looked peaceful. And for the first time, I noticed he may actually be almost _pretty_ if it weren't for the bruises covering his face and body. He was small— probably not quite as small as the tiny Ben, but close— too-skinny, and light-skinned, even if he wasn't so pale. His hair was black as night, and his eyes seemed to cover most of his face. His lashes, thick and black, fluttered against his cheeks as he breathed out a little sigh. 

"So, do you know him?"

I turned to Jacob, frowning, just barely remembering that he was still there. 

"Uh," I began, unsure what to tell the man. He and I were friends, but he was also the sheriff, and I didn't want the kid in any more trouble than he was obviously in. 

"Did he steal your wallet?" Jacob hedged, obviously studying my reactions as I looked back at the boy on the bed.

"Ah, no," I finally managed to get out. "I lent it to him. He was going out to get us some snacks... I was starting to get worried."

The lies fell from my mouth hesitantly, and I knew, even if Jacob didn't know me well enough to detect the lies, a blind deaf man would have. The story sounded lame in my ears even as I spoke it out loud.

"I woke you up when I called," Jacob said, his face unreadable as my eyes flicked from him to the kid and back again. 

"I... I must have fallen to sleep while I waited—"

"Ok, whatever, David," Jacob groaned, rubbing his face with both palms and shaking his head. "Look, don't answer, fine. But stop lying. God, you're a terrible liar. My three-year-old can lie better than you can."

"I'll take care of him. He's a friend," I lied again, flinching when Jacob rolled his eyes. 

"So I'm going to assume you don't want to press charges about the wallet? Fine. But do you know who did this to him? I'm going to give you the benefit of the doubt, mostly because I know you and I know you wouldn't do this, but also because of that damn look on your face. But do you know why the doctor says he looks like he's been hit by a truck, repeatedly? Do you know why we found him passed out, half-dead behind Conrad's Diner?"

"That bad?" I whispered, my chest clenching as I stared down at the boy. I began to move closer to him, to reach for his hand that rested gently above the thin hospital sheets, but I held myself back. 

"That bad," Jacob said, nodding. "His nose was broken days ago and never treated, so it's going to heal that crooked. He's got three rib fractures, and bruises covering his entire body. The doctor also did a rectal exam and found signs of trauma in his anus, as well as tearing in his colon. Someone did quite a number on him."

The bile that rose to my throat was so sudden, I felt my head get light and blood rushing through my ears. Before I knew what was happening, Jacob's strong hands were grabbing my arms and lowering me into a chair. I covered my face with both hands, annoyed at my own weakness. 

God, I didn't even know the kid. Why was this affecting me like this?

"I'll fucking kill him," I hissed, and Jacob raised his eyebrows as he pulled away from me. 

"So you know who did this?"

"Rick and his pricks were beating the shit out of the kid back in the alley behind my store."

"When?"

"Tonight. At maybe 4 or 5? I brought the kid inside, helped him a bit, but he ran."

"Then I doubt he was the one who caused most of the damage. The doctor said some of the bruises and the broken ribs are new, but the other stuff— the tearing in his anus, the nose, that's all days old. I'll pick Rick up and question him, but I doubt I can charge him for much more than assault, and we all know his daddy's lawyers will get that dropped before the ink on his arrest warrant even dries."

I nodded, breathing out quickly in frustration, and then shook my head. "So then what now?"

"Now, we can wait until he wakes and find out what to do then. I'm going to assume he's running from something—probably the same something that broke his nose and raped him. We'll figure something out."

"He can come back with me." The words were out before I could stop them, but once they were, I realized I didn't want to take them back. I wanted him with me, safe in my home, my bed. By God, I wanted to keep him near me so I could protect him. 

And the emotions and instincts were pulling at me sharp. 

Jacob studied me for a few tense moments, and then he shook his head and breathed out. 

"Don't make me regret trusting you, David. And don't let him run. We need to make sure that next time, it's not his body we're finding."


	4. The Most Important

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "You're gonna be important," I mumbled, even as my brain screamed at me to shut up. But the drugs were ripping through my mind, and my euphoric emotions were screaming for me to make him understand. "Like, the _most_ important."

ZIN—

I woke a few times on the way to wherever David was taking me, but whatever the nurses gave me was strong and I was so out of it I kept drifting in and out of consciousness. I think I was mumbling incoherently too, but I couldn't stop myself. I didn't want to. I felt so good, like I was floating and warm and safe.

I couldn't remember the last time I felt safe, but that's how I felt as I was carried up the same flight of stairs I had been dragged up what I thought must have been only a few hours before. I knew it was David who held me, hot and comfortable against his chest, his hard muscles dancing and swaying as he carefully made his way back to his bed that I had run from earlier that night. When he laid me down, I flinched at the pull of the bandages around my chest and abdomen, which then made me groan as my movement shifted the bandages the doctor had put over my nose. 

They had drugged me pretty heavily, mostly because once I woke in the hospital, all of my adrenaline and fear had cascaded to the forefront of my mind and I hadn't been able to stop fighting the poor nurse who tried to hold me down until a needle pricked my thigh and I didn't remember much after that. Just a general warmth, the movements of the nurses and doctors, and then finally David. 

I knew it was him even though I hadn't really been able to get a good look at him yet. I knew because I could feel him, his soul reaching out to mine. 

And because I knew even as I made my way down his fire escape that I would see him again. He was going to be important to me, even, but I tried to fight that thought. Weakness only ever got me hurt, and I knew like I knew most other things, that he would be my weakness for the rest of my life.

And that terrified me, even as it calmed me. 

I stayed awake long enough to stare up at David, his body outlined by the light from the living room behind him, and smile what I knew must have been a stupid-looking, dopey smile.

"You're gonna be important," I mumbled, even as my brain screamed at me to shut up. But the drugs were ripping through my mind, and my euphoric emotions were screaming for me to make him understand. "Like, the most important." 

"C'mon, kid," he grumbled as he pulled my shoes off and tried to push me under the blankets. "You need to rest. We can talk later."

"Not a kid," I said, rubbing at my eyes and frowning when I realized my left hand was bandaged. Had Lyle left any piece of skin on my body unbroken? "My name's Zin... uh." I paused for a moment, shocked I couldn't even finish my own name. "Zin... delo. My name's Zindelo. Zin."

David finished wrapping the blankets up around my neck, then simply stood and stared at me for a moment. He brushed a strand of hair back from my face with big, soft fingers, and the tender motion, along with the look in his eyes, made my entire body fall limp against the soft mattress beneath me.

"Rest, Zin. You're safe," he whispered in his grumbly, husky voice that made me want to crawl under the blankets and purr, and that was the last I remembered before I woke in the bed again. 

The pounding in my head was only rivaled by the sharp ache in my ribs. I sat up gingerly, groaning as I grabbed my face with both hands and fought the bile that rose up in my throat. I wouldn't vomit on the blankets after everything David had done for me. I refused. 

Once my head had stopped spinning and the aches had calmed to an acceptable throb, I looked around, assessing my surroundings. The sun shone in through the few windows around the flat, and a large swathe of sunlight lit the rugs on the hardwood floor leading from the glass patio doors. I guessed it was probably noon or a bit earlier from the direction of the sun, and because David was going to come up at noon to try to wake me to eat. 

A light, soft sound drew my gaze down to the end of the bed, where a little white bundle of fur made me gasp. 

"Oh!" I couldn't help but call out, laughing as the kitten balked up at me sleepily. She had bandages around her tiny head, covering her eyes, as well as around her little body to cover the stump where her front right leg would have been. My laugh died when I saw that her leg had been amputated. "Oh no, they had to take your little leg, didn't they baby?"

The kitten mewed pitifully and began to leap and saunter over to where she heard my voice. I leaned forward and lifted her into my arms, holding her gently to my chest so I didn't jostle her injuries. She dug her nose into my shirt—David's shirt that I wore— and I could tell she was scenting me. 

I glanced around again and smiled when I saw the bowl of milk on the little step stool next to the bed. David had set it up, along with a pile of newspaper in the corner, for the cat. Despite the newspaper, I chuckled when I saw a tiny plop of poop near the bed. 

At least she hadn't pooped on the bed, though. 

A bottle of water and two white pills sat on the side table next to the bed, along with a note written on a post-it that said _Take these when you wake up_.

I swallowed the pills and downed them with the water, almost finishing the bottle before forcing myself to stop. It wasn't until the first drop hit my tongue that I realized how dry my mouth was.

I moved out from under the blankets, setting the kitten down on the bed and watching while she yawned so wide I could almost count her teeth, then cuddled back into the blankets. I stood slowly on unsteady feet, taking a moment to be sure I didn't fall flat on my face. I noticed my shoes were a few feet away, lined up against the wall, but the pants I had been wearing were nowhere to be found. I wore only David's shirt, hanging down to just above my knees. 

I wandered over to the kitchen, looking around and trying to get my bearings. My head still ached, although it was manageable and more background noise than front-and-center pain. But I was still groggy to the point that I stumbled quite a few times before I managed to make it to the front door. Even in the moment, I wasn't really sure where I was going. I had been on autopilot for so long, my mind was probably trying to get me to run again. To escape, since I had been in one place too long, and the hospital had possibly given my fingerprints to the police.

And if they had, I was fucked. Lyle would find me faster than I could run this time. And I wouldn't survive this time. I knew if he found me again, it would be the last time. Not because I had Seen it, but because I could feel it, deep in my soul. He would kill me, or I would find some way to end my pain and escape him. For good. 

Outside the door was a small landing about five feet around, with wood stairs leading down to a thick curtain. I stumbled down the stairs, my confusion heightening when I made it to the curtain and walked out into a bookstore. 

The bookstore had walls of shelves, along with a few book displays set on various tables around the large store, and an area on the far side from where I now stood with a large roaring fireplace, bean bag chairs and various love seats and armchairs. Two sets of eyes stared up at me from a counter near the door where a register sat near a stack of books. Near the counter was a display case with what looked like food inside, and a coffee set up.

Two men watched me, both with shock and one with amusement. One was Ben, the small man David had given the kitten to the day before. He was smaller than me at barely seven inches above five feet at most, had short, curly red hair, freckles covering his nose, and bright green eyes. He stood behind the counter, and he wore a name tag over his gray polo shirt. I assumed that meant he worked there. The man who leaned up against the counter and watched me with a dawning amusement and mirth was gorgeous in a Hollywood model way. He was long and lean, built like a swimmer with a narrow waist and full hips, and he was at least six feet tall, if not a few inches above six feet. Dark tattoos ran up and down his arms and along what I could see of his chest. 

"Oh," I muttered, feeling when the blush rose in my cheeks as the men looked me up and down almost in sync. "I'm s-sorry."

The model was the first to come to his senses. He pushed himself away from the counter, his smile bright and almost blinding. 

"Heya, hun," he drawled, his southern accent thick enough to make my heart thump weird in my chest. I had always been a sucker for an American southern accent, ever since the first time I heard it while watching some American drama with my Ma. "Where's Dave been hidin' you?"

"David... Where is David?" I managed to get out, stepping back and hugging my arms around my body as the man sauntered too close. He seemed to notice the move, because he froze and his smile faltered. 

"Leave him alone, Noah," Ben called, grabbing the man's arm from behind and dragging him back to step in front of him. "Hey, Zin," he said when he stopped in front of me. "David had to run to the store for a minute. I think he was grabbing stuff for the cat. He'll be back soon."

I nodded, my arms tightening around my body when both men continued to stand and watch me. "Oh. Ok. I'll... I'll wait for him upstairs, then?"

Ben nodded and smiled gently. "I'm Ben, by the way. We sort of met the other day, but not really. This big lug of stupid is Noah. He works in the tattoo parlor next door. He's harmless, really, just keep the lock on your chastity belt when he's around."

I knew he meant the words as a joke, but they sent a jolt of fear down my spine. Noah didn't look anything like Lyle— he was light everywhere Lyle was dark, soft where Lyle was hard— but there was a sort of aura that was similar enough to Lyle to raise the hairs on my arms and clog up my throat. The arrogance, the model good-looks, the obvious, flirtatious way he had come up to me. All of it reminded me of Lyle now that Ben's words had sunk in. 

I tried to smile, but I could tell it looked more like a grimace from the looks on Ben and Noah's faces. "I'm Zin," I said, stupidly, since they already knew my name obviously. 

"You a friend of David's?" Noah asked, his smile back but not quite as bright. And there wasn't a hint of flirtation, for which I was grateful. I looked over at Ben, who glared up at Noah and elbowed him in the ribs while rolling his eyes. Obviously Ben knew something about why I was there. 

"Go ahead and go back upstairs. I'll let David know you're awake when he gets back. We wouldn't want anyone else coming in now, with you—" Ben cut himself off, waving at my legs, and I frowned down at myself. 

It was only then I noticed my bare feet and legs. The shirt I wore barely covered my thighs, and I would be lucky if I hadn't given both men a few glimpses of my junk. 

"Shit," I muttered as both Ben and Noah began to laugh. "I didn't..."

"It's ok," Ben giggled, obviously trying to keep a straight face and failing. "Nothing either of us hasn't seen before. But there are a few impressionable kids and old women who frequent the shop who may not be so... understanding."

Noah guffawed, his eyes bright with a mirth that actually seemed to settle my discomfort with him. I had never seen Lyle laugh like that. With so much of his soul reaching his eyes. 

For a few moments, I wasn't in that time any more. I could tell, because I could still see Noah and Ben with my eyes, but there were other things jumping behind that physical vision I couldn't hold back. 

Images of Noah watching a tall, heavily built man in some sort of uniform flickered behind my eyes. Watching him, clutching his pillows and crying at night pining for him, wanting nothing more than to simply stand by his side, even if it wasn't in the way he really wanted. And then the final image of the two men at some sort of party, disappearing drunkenly together into a small room. 

"It's ok, you know," I said to him before I could stop myself, still half-caught up in what I could See. "He can't say yes unless you ask him."

When I managed to pull myself back to the now, I stared up at Noah and tried to keep myself from reacting. I couldn't help myself most of the time, but it frustrated me that I had barely been around these men for five minutes and they were already giving me _the look._

Ben's was filled with confusion but just a hint of understanding, and Noah with embarrassment and some kind of distrust. As if I had said something I wasn't allowed to say. 

"Wait, what...?" Noah finally said, shaking his head and his face falling blank.

"I'm going to wait for David upstairs," I said so hurriedly I didn't know if they could even hear the words. But I didn't care. I had to leave before I saw something from Ben and again couldn't keep my damn mouth shut. 

I stomped up the stairs, slammed into the apartment, and fell onto the bed in a huff of irritation. I could feel the kitten's feather-like weight crawl up my legs and then settle onto the small of my back, probably seeking my warmth.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> <3<3


	5. Mama Toya

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A little bit of David’s backstory...

DAVID—

The moment I stepped back into my store, I knew Noah had found out about Zin. Or at least, he thought he had found some deep, dark secret of mine, like a hidden boyfriend. 

I could tell from the look on his face, like a predator that found its prey's hiding place and was just waiting to pounce. And pounce he did, the second I stepped in the door, carting a dozen plastic bags with supplies, and a large bag of cat litter. 

"So, anything new you'd like to tell us, big guy?" Noah taunted, his eyes flashing with an almost manic glee. "God, I hope you're a sharer, at least. I could have some _fun_ with that gorgeous piece of—"

"You even finish that sentence, I'll kick your ass, pretty," I hissed, glaring down at the gorgeous tattoo artist. 

"Ooh, so not a sharer, then? Pity. I barely got a glimpse of the goods, but from what I —"

"Noah!" Ben yelled, saving the man from saying something he'd soon regret. "Leave David alone." 

I was momentarily grateful and surprised by my employee's defending me, but then his next words had me growling and stomping up the stairs, followed by their cackling laughter.

"We all know David's always been a jealous asshole. Plus, you're a bottom, and if there was ever a man born to be a bottom, it's the half-naked cutie upstairs, waiting on his Prince Charming."

"I could top for that sweet ass," Noah chortled, his voice following me up the stairs as I grumbled about getting a lock on the door between my store and the tattoo shop next door. I always threatened it, but I had never gone through with it. Maybe it was about time I did.

When I made it into my apartment, Zin was fast asleep. I noticed the kitten curled into a tiny ball on the small of the boy's back. He still wore only the t-shirt I had lent him the other day, since I had taken the scrubs off the urgent care had sent him back in. The pants I had lent to him the day before were now dirty in my hamper, having been covered in mud and grit from the alleyway where they had found him. 

The pain pills I had left for him on the nightstand were gone, so I knew he would probably be out pretty deeply for at least another few hours. The prescription was a strong one, and the doctor at the clinic had told me Zin would likely be drowsy so long as he took them. But he would need them. His injuries weren't life-threatening, but they were severe enough to worry the doctor about the boy being alone. 

I tried to stay as quiet as I could as I unloaded the groceries and the cat supplies I had gathered together. I didn't know how long Zin would need to stay, but I had bought enough food for the both of us for a couple of weeks, just in case. I also bought him a package of boxer briefs in a size I guessed he would be, as well as a single set of clothes— a plain white t-shirt and jeans. I had guessed the sizes for those as well, of course, but I figured I had to have at least gotten close enough for him to be comfortable. And if not, I had the receipts still. 

For what felt like the millionth time, I tried to talk myself out of foisting the boy onto someone else. I couldn't think of a single person in this town who would, or could, take him in. But it didn't stop me from trying. Everything about him screamed trouble, from his gorgeous eyes to the shifty way he stared me down when he thought I wasn't looking. Everything about him told me he was the type of danger I had left in my past years ago. 

I had taken a unique path when I got out and was no longer property of Uncle Sam. Many of my friends, men and women I had served with, had become law enforcement, worked in personal security, as firemen, or many other like jobs. I had opened a book store. I couldn't say if it was because something had broken inside of me during my years of service, or if I had always been this way, but I had no intention of ever drawing blood from another again. I wanted quiet, I wanted peace, and I wanted normalcy. 

And this boy screamed conflict, noise, and he had a sense of the abnormal that made my entire body clench in annoyance. 

But I didn't really have much of a choice. Until he was able to care for himself, or at least could tell me where his family or friends who could care for him were, he was my problem. 

_Fuck._

Growing up in a group home with a foster mother who took no shit, and wasn't afraid to beat the shit out of the kid who talked back to her, I was not prepared to care for a kid like this. I had never had a normal family, not really, not even compared to the modern standards of normal. Toya, my foster mother, tried to nurture a warm, loving home, but there were six boys living in her home while I was there, and some of us were more broken than others. I was mostly put on the back-burner by Toya, since I was the only kid she'd had since I was too young to remember. Compared to the others, I was an angel, and so I was mostly left alone to fend for myself. 

But despite the quasi-family Toya had fostered, I had been the youngest of us boys, and never really took care of anyone but myself. 

While she had never officially adopted any of us, me and my brothers had never forgotten the care Toya had given us, and each of us was grateful to her for keeping us off the streets and out of trouble. My life could have gone a very different direction if it weren't for the stern hand of a woman who loved me with her whole heart, despite not sharing any blood or even being the same race. Since I had come out to her at fifteen, she used to joke that it was a waste that an old black woman from Mississippi would be the only woman who would ever be in my heart. And I had to whole-heartedly agree. Not about it being a waste; of course not that. No, that she would be the only woman who ever meant anything to me. 

Her frustration that I had yet to find Mr. Right she made apparent each time I visited. After we had all moved out, she hadn't taken another foster kid. But I came back to visit as often as I could, and Devon, Juan,  Andre, and Jake, four of my brothers, had stayed near her, and we all made sure she was taken care of. Most of my brothers were married, with Devon and I being the only hold-outs. Each wedding had been presided over by Mama Toya, who stayed stoic each time, until she could cry alone later. Each time, I found her in some quiet room, and I simply held her while she rocked. It was almost tradition at this point, and during Andre's wedding, she had asked who was going to hold her during my wedding. 

"What do you mean? Me, of course," I had laughed, shaking my head as she rolled her eyes. 

When I had come out to her, Juan had just married a pretty little co-ed who he had dated for over ten years. Keli was already pregnant during the wedding, and it brought no end to Toya's joy that she would soon have a grandchild. The first thing she said to me when I told her I was gay, was about future grandchildren.

"I don't care if you and your husband have to kidnap a runt, David. You will give me beautiful grandbabies."

"Yes, ma'am," I laughed as she brought my tear-stained face to hide in her broad shoulder. 

I had been terrified to come out to her. I had never heard a bad word against gays from her lips, but she was a staunch Baptist, and we all attended church with her every Sunday without fail. And I knew it would take only a word from her, and I would be shipped off to another home. I had almost expected it, but I had been unable to hide anymore. My fear of being sent away was only overshadowed by my need to stop lying to the woman who had raised me. To stop pretending. To finally be free to be _myself_ , rather than the boy she thought I was. So when I had begun to tell her, my words had been broken, my throat raw, and tears had run ceaselessly down my face. 

And those were the first damn words she said. In a few seconds, she had dispelled all of my fears, caught me up in her arms, and told me she loved me and, no matter who I loved, I would always be her son. 

She had even tried to set me up a few times. I had come home on leave to find the preacher's son joining us for dinner, or the guy who ran the local library would drop off her delivery of books and she would introduce us with a twinkle of mischief in her eye. It was increasingly uncomfortable, since she didn't seem to mind if the other man was even remotely gay; she seemed to simply find men who she liked, and just assume they would like me too. 

Good God, those had been some awkward conversations. 

While I was overseas, she had sent me numerous pictures of her marching in Pride parades, and volunteering at a local LGBT youth center. She had never taken any more foster kids, but every time I came home to visit it was like there was another new baby queer in her house. Rather than a group home, her little bungalow was now more like a half-way house for baby queers who were, for one reason or another, needing a roof over their head for a few days. 

I stared down at the boy on my bed, reaching down to pet the kitten as it purred in contentment. Maybe that was the answer. I knew Toya would take the kid. Philadelphia was only a few days' drive; I didn't think I could afford a last-minute plane ticket, but driving wouldn't cost too much. And I was long-overdue for visiting her. I could be rid of the kid within a week, and Toya would know how to handle him. She had dealt with much worse, I knew. Juan, Andre and Jake had all come from abusive homes, while Devon had been in and out of foster homes and group homes since he was a baby. He had even been on the streets numerous times, and while I didn't know the details, I knew from his reaction when I came out that he hadn't had the best relationship with men. The first time I brought a boyfriend home to meet Toya, Devon had disappeared and hadn't come back until well past midnight. He had been drunk out of his mind, and probably on something else I didn't want to name. 

Rather than letting him pass out on the bunk he and I shared, Toya had dragged him out of the room, and their arguing had quickly devolved into silence, and then the soft sobs that echoed into the bedroom, even through the closed doors, had made me cover my ears with my pillow and clench my eyes. Dark images floated through my eyes as I tried to block out Devon's heartrending sobs. 

I wasn't naive. I knew that there were evils in the world I would never understand. I knew what had likely caused Devon's adverse reaction to my relationship with another man. And I knew that, among my brothers, I was the lucky one. I was the one who had been at Toya's knee since I was barely old enough to walk. I had never known the kind of pain and fear that they did at such young ages. I knew all of this, but it wasn't until that moment, hiding under the covers while Toya held Devon, a grown man at that point, through a pain I would never really understand, that the full implications of what Toya had kept me safe from had hit me.

The next afternoon, Devon had stumbled out of Toya's room, blurry eyed and pale. He had sauntered over to me, where I sat at the counter in the kitchen, talking with Toya as she cut up sandwiches for lunch. He had dragged me up into a bear hug, the kind that took up your whole body.

"I'm proud of you, little brother," he whispered, and then he pulled away, hugged Toya much more gently, and that was that. We never spoke of it again, and we spent the afternoon laughing about Juan's daughters' antics and binge watching SNL. 

I didn't know what Zin had been through. I wouldn't even begin to guess. I could tell, from only the few minutes I had interacted with him, that he had the same flighty look as a few of my brothers when Toya had first brought them home. The same darkness in his eyes, the same look of wary mistrust that had sometimes taken Toya years to drive out of their eyes and their souls. 

And for that, I knew Toya could help Zin far more than I ever could. Because she had worked her magic on each of my brothers, and not a single one of them had gone down a path she didn't approve of. None of them had turned to drugs or alcohol to dull their pain, each had a beautiful family, none had ever been to jail after she got them in her house, and each was successful, in their own way. 

Juan was a mechanic now, owned his own shop, and his Keli had given him four kids— all daughters, to Toya's glee and the rest of our amusement. 

Devon was, poetically enough, a councilor at a local vet clinic and lived only about a block from Toya. He had been the last to move out, having only pushed himself out of Mama Toya's house about five years ago. Devon was beside Mama Toya in many of her Pride pictures, and she told me he volunteered as a councilor for the LGBT center in his spare time. 

Jake worked at a local bakery. He hadn't attended college, but he managed the bakery owned by an old Jewish man, whose daughter, Billy, he had married only a few years ago. The last time I had come home to visit, Jake had been ecstatic to tell me his father-in-law had finally told him he was leaving the bakery to him when he retired. He and Billy had three kids— two boys and one girl.  

Andre was married to Ruth, and both worked in law enforcement— Andre as a secretary for the chief of police, and Ruth as a homicide detective. Ruth was pregnant with their first kid, and working straight through her pregnancy to Andre and Toya's frustration.  

Karl, the oldest, who had been taken in by Toya when he was sixteen after his parents were killed in a gang shootout, had moved to New York and now worked in a law firm downtown. He had managed law school with dozens of grants and a scholarship. He was married to his college sweetheart Leslie, but they hadn't given Mama Toya any children yet, much to her annoyance. 

And I owned a small bookstore/bakery in the middle of nowhere after serving more than a decade for Uncle Sam, and disappointed Mama Toya each time I came home without a man on my arm. 

I dragged my thoughts back to the present, trying to put them in some kind of order. My family wasn't here now, they couldn't help me with this. Not until I managed to at least understand what I had succeeded in getting myself involved in. 

The boy's shuffling as he woke jerked me upright, and I realized I had been standing, stroking his back rather than the kitten, for God only knew how long. I stepped back, meeting his eyes when they opened, and tried my best to form some semblance of a smile. From the look on his face, I feared it looked more like a grimace.

"Good of you to join the land of the living," I grunted, lifting the cat and pulling her to the counter, where I had set out a bowl of cat food for her. The little creature sniffed at the bowl hesitantly, and then began to devour the contents when she surmised that it was edible.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comment comment comment <3


	6. Walking Talking Bruise

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "When was the last time you ate?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Trigger warnings (physical, mental and sexual abuse; let's just say Lyle was an asshole)... **

ZIN

I had woken from dreams of Lyle's heavy hands on that spot between my shoulders that, when he held me down there, I was unable to squirm, much less escape from underneath his heavy body, to a soft, feathery touch in that same spot. The warmth of David's fingers against that spot, caressing my skin so gently I almost didn't feel it at first, combined with the dreams that had woken me, had my entire body clenching and cringing back from the hand currently at my back. 

I sat up and rubbed at my eyes gingerly, flinching when the skin tugged around my nose. My entire body was sore, stiff and aching. 

But that was par for the course at this point, honestly. From the moment I got into Lyle's line of sight, I had been one big walking, talking bruise. 

I shook myself and watched David as he fed the kitten before turning to me. His handsome, hard face lit up for a moment as he studied me, smiling gently, and then his back was to me and he was shuffling around the kitchen.

"You know," he began, "I was offering to help you willingly. You didn't have to steal my wallet; I would have given you money if you had asked."  

I flinched when I realized that was probably why the doctors at the clinic had called him. They must have assumed he knew me, or at least of me, if I had his wallet. 

"I-I'm s-s-sorry," I muttered, trying not to stutter and failing miserably right out of the gate. "I-I-I didn't know what—"

The man's heavy sigh cut me off and I glowered down at my hands, clenched in my lap. I was still only wearing his t-shirt and for the first time I was fully aware and uncomfortable with my nakedness. 

I stood on shaky legs, ignoring David's watchful eyes as I grabbed the pair of hospital scrubs that lay on the chair near the bed. I pulled them on as quickly as my shaking body would allow and then sat back on the bed, trying to calm my racing mind and suddenly fuzzy vision.

"I should... I should go," I said, my voice sounding pathetic even in my own ears. "I'm sorry I bothered you again. I'm sorry for taking your wallet. I was... Um, I was hungry."

I began to stand, but David was suddenly there right by my side, his big, soft hands on my shoulders holding me down. 

"You're not going anywhere, Zin," he said, his words gentle but firm. And yet, with them my fear was stark. 

_"You're not going anywhere, baby. You belong to me. You're mine, and I keep my property or I destroy it so others can't enjoy it; dirty it. Do you understand? Do you understand, babe? Besides, you can't survive out there on your own, my little freak."_

I shuddered and it took every ounce of willpower not to tear myself from David's arms and claw at him to escape. 

_You're safe_ , I told myself over and over in my head as I closed my eyes. _Lyle has no idea where you are. You're safe, and you're free._

"Look, I want to help. But I can't do that if you keep trying to run away. Just stay long enough to eat something, at least, and then we can talk. Alright?"

David's words were calm, quiet, soothing, deep and pure and filled with genuine warmth. He meant what he said. At least, he did for now. For now, he wanted to help. He wanted to keep me safe, because he was a good man. But even good men had a limit, and I knew with years of experience that very few people, even good, genuine people, could handle me and my unique baggage.  

"Alright," I agreed, shrugging out of his hold as gently as I could, hoping he didn't notice that was my intention— to get away from his touch. "Thank you."

David took a few steps away from me before stopping and staring down at me, his eyebrows furrowed. He studied me for a few moments before smiling almost ruefully and shaking his head.

He moved back to the kitchen and within a few minutes he was gesturing me over to the small table. I followed his direction and sat at one of the chairs just as he plopped the kitten into my lap and then set a plate in front of me on the table. The kitten immediately curled into a little ball between my legs and began to breathe deeply in sleep. 

The plate had a turkey sandwich cut in half next to a small bowl of what looked and smelled like chicken noodle soup. I looked up at David, smiling in gratitude, before I began to devour the food. It was the first thing I had eaten that hadn't come directly out of the garbage in weeks.  

"Hey, slow down, kid. No one's going to take it from you," he chuckled. "You're going to make yourself sick."

"Sorry," I mumbled around the bread that still stuck to the top of my mouth. 

"When was the last time you ate?"

His words were genuine, and concerned, but they sent a spike of fear through me anyways. And then the immediate annoyance and frustration at myself. Fear no longer needed to be my default at questions. He wasn't looking for a reason to hurt me, a spark of betrayal or rebellion. He was concerned for another human. 

I had to stop thinking like Lyle's pet or I would never escape him. Not really.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> <3<3


	7. A Place to Stay

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _God, who broke you, kid?_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Trigger Warning?? Zin offers himself to David as “payment” for letting him stay, because it’s what he’s always had to do**

DAVID— 

The boy was skittish, terrified, and... lost. I recognized the same behaviors in him a few of my foster brothers showed—  the ones who had come out of abusive homes— so I tried to act the way I remember Mama Toya acting. I moved slowly, smoothly, made sure I never came at him from behind, spoke as quietly, soothingly as I could, and kept myself at arms'-length. He seemed to calm slowly, but each question I asked him, no matter how innocent or innocuous, was met with a careful, calculated answer, as if he was afraid of my reaction. 

"I don't remember," he answered slowly, to my question as to when he had eaten last. I sighed and dug into my own sandwich. I pushed the dozens of questions I still had to the back of my mind for a time when he trusted me a bit more. 

"Do you need a place to stay?" I asked after I had sipped the last of my soup. Zin was still working on his soup, his gaze thoughtful and almost blissful as he sipped slowly, savoring each bite. His lips pursed to blow on the spoonful he pulled up to his mouth, and the sight sent a shiver down my spine as it shot images through my head. 

Those plump lips wrapped around my cock as I gripped his hair in my fists. Pressed against my own lips as I devoured his mouth, eating up the hungry moans that slipped out in between breaths. That mouth wide as he screamed my name, writhing on my cock. 

I almost growled in frustration, glaring down at my twitching cock. 

_Down, boy_ , I thought, wanting to roll my eyes. The kid was at least half my age. 

The way he looked up at me suddenly, his eyes wide and watchful, made me think he was about to deny my question. But then he paused, licking his lips ( _down, boy_ ), and met my eyes full on— something he had only done a couple of times, and never for more than a few seconds at a time. 

"I do... I'm not..." He set his spoon down, the clank loud in the almost deafening silence in my apartment. "I don't have anywhere else to go."

I nodded and clenched my fists in my lap to keep them from reaching for him, to comfort him. I knew any move like that, any touch from me, especially at that moment, would achieve the opposite of the assurance I wanted to give. 

"I have a perfectly good couch that's not being used for anything more than my fat ass, so I can offer a bed and a roof; food. I also own the bookstore downstairs, and I'm looking for a part-time sales clerk, if you'd be interested. We can talk about benefits and things like that if you think that's something you would want."

The speed that Zin's shoulders rose up almost around his ears, and his eyes shuttered with distrust gave me mental whiplash. 

"Why?" he asked hesitantly. 

"Why what?"

"Why would you help me? I can't... I won't be able to pay you back for the food, or rent, or even these clothes for... weeks. Maybe longer. You don't even know me. Why would you offer me a job?"

I watched Zin, hoping he didn't get up and run but knowing that was what was flooding through his veins: the need to run. 

_God, who broke you, kid?_

"You need a place to stay. I have a place. You need a job. I have an opening. It's simple math, kid."

"Don't call me that," he snapped, his hand fisting in the tablecloth as he stared me down. "I'm not a child."

I held my palm up in a placating gesture. "I didn't mean anything by it, Zin. I'm sorry."

My immediate capitulation seemed to calm him somewhat. His shoulders drooped, and his eyes met mine again, with only a hint of distrust still shining deeper than he seemed to be able to hide.  

"And as for paying me back, I don't want your money. Let's get you on your f—" I broke off, frozen and speechless at the look that settled into his eyes, his face. The way his entire body looked as if he was bracing for a blow and yet, at the same time, as if he had completely deflated. The soul-deep skepticism, anger, and _acceptance_ that settled over him was instantaneous and disconcerting. 

He looked away, down at his hands clenched in his lap, and the weary acceptance seemed to push out all other emotion or thought as he nodded. 

"I understand. I'll... I agree. I'll do whatever you want if you let me stay. You can do... You can do whatever you want."

Like a bolt of adrenaline straight down my spine, I understood his reaction and what he thought I had meant. What he thought I wanted in exchange for my help.

The thought had a growl rising in my throat as I slammed my hand against the table and lifted myself to my feet. I towered over him, knowing immediately the position would terrify him, but not caring in that moment. At least, not enough to calm myself and pull away. 

He thought I wanted him to let me fuck him so he could sleep on my couch. So he could have a few decent meals. 

_Fucking hell_ , I thought as I turned away and stomped to the balcony door, staring down at the few people walking along the sidewalks below. _Why is this affecting me so much?_

 _Why did his mind go automatically to selling his body to me?_ a voice in my mind begged, trying to keep the images from it that wanted to crawl to the forefront. He was just a kid. 

_Because_ , the more logical, dark voice in the back of my mind said sardonically. _It's what he knows_. 

I could practically feel his fear, and I turned back as soon as I heard him stand. He was trying to stammer out an apology, his confusion over my reaction heady. 

"I'm sorry," I cut in, taking a deep breath and forcing a smile to my lips. "I overreacted. I just... I don't want to have sex with you, Zin. I wasn't saying I'll exchange food and shelter for sex. I was just saying you don't need to repay me. Call it a gift from a friend helping another friend get on his feet. No need for repayment of any kind, monetary or otherwise."

"O-oh," he whispered, his hands clenching and unclenching as he studied me, his relief as palpable as his ongoing confusion. And somehow, there was just a bit of hurt in his voice as he continued. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to offend you."

His words turned my forced smile into a genuine one as I couldn't stop my eyes from roaming his body, up and down, almost lecherously. 

"No offense taken," I said gently, cocking my head and watching him until he met my eyes again. "You're just not really my type."

"Oh, well I'm a man, so—" 

My laugh cut him off and he frowned. I couldn't help but picture a small animal, like a bunny, his nose twitching as he watched me laugh, wondering if I was mocking him and if he should get angry at the affront.

"That's not it," I chuckled, shaking my head and reaching over to start picking up the lunch dishes. He rushed to help me, but stopped when my words registered. "I'm gay as hell. You're just a lot younger than me."

"O... Oh," he repeated, and the blush that darkened his cheeks could have started a fire. "I'm almost 20. I'm not underage."

His pout followed me as I laughed my way into the kitchen, my hands full of dishes and silverware.


	8. He Will Break Me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Zin has a smutty vision.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I swear, I need to work on my chapter summaries :/

ZIN—

David's mocking laughter echoed against the kitchen cabinets just as a vision struck, leaving me staring after him like a dimwit as it took my attention from the Here and Now. 

_David, his face strained, the cords in his neck bulging as sweat dripped off of his dark skin. His eyes reveling in the eyes of the man beneath him, who met his gaze with equal intensity. They never looked away from each other as the smaller man cried out, his back arching as David's pulsing, thrusting movements grew erratic, and then suddenly his body was taut and still, his own voice breaking in soft grunts. David's eyes fluttered as he gasped, his thick biceps shaking with exertion._

_"Zin," David murmured, leaning down to softly and so, so gently lay a kiss on the edge of my fluttering mouth. He muttered something else that I couldn't make out, but oh, I wanted to._

_I needed to know. Dear God, I had to know what he had said while he stared into my eyes like I was... precious._

"Zin?" David's almost frustrated echoing of my name brought me back to the present, where I stood staring at the kitchen wall with a dumb smile on my distracted face. From the tone in his voice when he said my name, I could tell it wasn't the first iteration. 

"Oh, sorry, yeah?"

He watched me with an annoyed sort of amusement before he shook his head and chuckled. I loved the way he laughed. It was like it came from deep in his belly to crawl its way up his body and out, caressing the length of my skin with its baritone sound, leaving a trail of gooseflesh in its wake

 _Shit, horny much, Zin?_

I didn't know if I'd ever felt like this. I was usually pretty ambivalent towards sex, and attraction. Almost asexual, to be honest, but mostly because I never had to search for it, or fight for it. And if that sounds like bragging, it's pretty much the opposite. I've been pursued by men and women since I was way too young to know what they wanted from me, and so I had never wanted. Never really had a chance to lust after someone. 

At least, not like this. This felt like a new beast altogether. Less like lust and more like...

I didn't even know. But David's adamant refusal that I was even someone he could look at sexually was at once reassuring and... disappointing. 

Especially now that my vision had shown me a possible future. One I didn't know if I wanted desperately... or dreaded and abhorred. 

"You need to rest some more. You can take the bed until your ribs heal, at least. I'm not such an asshole that I would make you sleep on the couch with busted ribs-- ah, ah!" he tutted when I tried to refuse his offer. "You're sleeping on the bed willingly or I'm tying you to it."

Despite the memories that flashed through my mind at his words, or maybe because of them, I couldn't help the flirty grin that twisted my lips. He had lightened the mood with his teasing, broken a little of my tension, so I felt comfortable joking back now. 

"Kinky," I drawled, drawing a soft huff of laughter and an eye roll from David. 

"Yeah, yeah, cute," he said, shaking his head and moving back around the table to stand in front of me with his hands on his hips. 

Unlike me, who might as well have a rainbow flag tattooed on my face, along with the word "fag," David didn't seem gay. Not that there's a specific way that you have to look, or behave, or... oh, you get what I mean. He was ex-military, if my intuition was right, and it always is, and he had masculine written all over him, from his flannels to his tattoos, all the way up to his days' old scruff and tousled, unstyled hair. He screamed straight like I screamed gay. But the way he looked at me in that moment as he hesitated before helping me back to the bed... That look assured me of the truth of his claimed sexual identity. 

He was most definitely gay. 

And despite what he had said about our ages, he was most _definitely interested._

That thought should have scared me. Made me wary, at least a little bit more cautious. 

Instead, it titillated and excited me. 

And _that_ terrified me. Because, despite the difference in circumstance, I had sworn to myself, to God, to whatever higher power had been listening in my darkest hours that I would _never_ let someone-- man, woman, _anyone_ \-- have the kind of power over me I had given to Lyle and to far too many people before him. 

And something deep inside me was screaming that the power I would give to David if I gave in to the attraction I felt towards him would be tenfold what Lyle or any of the men before him had wielded. He would _break me._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> <3


	9. A Unique Experience

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> David’s a total Trekkie :D

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi all, sorry about the infrequent updates on this one :( I’ll try to do better in the future <3

David—

I hadn't lived or slept near anyone in years— not since I'd been home for good— so acclimating to living with Zin was... a unique experience. The guy was a clean freak with a capital C, and he spent most of his time arguing with me that he was well enough to start working, at least around the house. I had to compromise after a few days, mostly because the dishes were piling up and I have never been much of a housekeeper.

With my permission granted, I came home that night to a house that smelled of bleach and looked like he had scrubbed it with a toothbrush. After a thorough scolding for overexerting himself, I practically threw him on the bed and wouldn't let him leave it for the rest of the night, even to eat. I brought him his food on a cookie sheet, since I didn't own any TV trays, and he laughed as I set it down and forced him to eat every bite. 

"Alright, Papi," he joked, rolling his eyes as he began to pick at his dinner. I laughed and brought mine over to the bed, crossing my legs and sitting on the bed across from him. 

He was more alert and awake than he had been since I'd met him, taking less pain killers and being well rested from the days spent sleeping and lounging in bed. He and the kitten, whom he had dubbed Her Majesty, made quite a pair, snuggled up under the blankets on the bed, only their eyes visible as I came home from work each day.

Despite a past that, if I knew the details would probably make me want to track down every person who had ever looked at Zin sideways, Zin blushed like a schoolgirl every few minutes, his thick, dark lashes fluttering as he seemingly unconsciously flirted with me. We talked for hours that night, hashing over the two books he had been reading over the last few days that lay on the bedside table, my obsession with all things Star Trek (I know, I don't look much like a Trekkie, but I've got the ink to prove my die hard status), and the bits of his past he would let me into. 

He spoke of his parents, whom he remembered only vaguely, who died just after bringing him to the States from Moldova. He didn't remember how they died, and he said he didn't remember much of what happened after. But the way he said it told me he was lying to keep from having to talk about it. 

So I respected his space and didn't push, allowing him to skip over many years until he told me of living in Los Angeles, then New York, then somewhere in Texas... all running from something he refused to go into. 

I told him of my upbringing— of Mama Toya and my brothers. A bit about my time in the service. I told him about my friends, and he agreed to meet them— properly this time; fully dressed— soon.

It wasn't until I woke the next morning with Zin's toes digging into my ribs for warmth, his breaths fanning against the hair on my legs while his head rested against my thighs, that I realized we had not only talked so late into the night the sun had begun to rise, but that we had fallen to sleep in a tangle of limbs, bare skin, and exhausted bodies.


	10. Belief

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> <3

Zin—

The peace that I found in those first few days with David was short lived. The chaos and disruption that found me was partly what I was used to: my Sight wreaking havoc on my life, and partly something I had never experienced: the chaotic mess that was David's chosen family. 

But I'm getting ahead of myself. Like always. This is the Now, not the Will Be, and I'm writing of the Then. Of the Then, not the Will Be. 

It's often hard for me to tell them apart. 

... I've said that already, haven't I?

For a few days after I woke in David's bed for the second time, I slept deep, healing sleeps due to the painkillers. I woke only when David came to check on me, and to bring me food. He was the only one I saw in those first few days, but I knew Ben made most of the meals he brought me, and Noah made the teas the few times David brought me tea. I could feel them in what they prepared, so by the time I had been properly introduced, not in a pain-confusion-and-drug-filled stupor, I felt as if I knew them. For I knew their souls through the time and effort they had spent in helping me. 

After I spent the majority of the day cleaning David's apartment, trying to pay him back for everything he was doing for me, in some small part, and his subsequent temper tantrum, we spent the night talking, laughing, and growing closer. 

And although I knew, from the way he watched me the next morning over his coffee and Jim Butcher novel, that it hadn't been the same for him, and he seemed to regret the time he had spent, and the affection he had shown, I had spent the night falling for him. 

Which was absolutely ridiculous in the worst way. Not that I had ever been in love with Lyle, even for a moment, but God, I must be some kind of masochistic idiot if I was willing to put myself under the thumb of another man. Give another man power over me, the way loving him would. 

But my idiotic heart wouldn't listen to the sobbing in my mind and the broken way I still flinched when he even moved too suddenly or spoke too loud. Oh no. It was far too stupid to listen to reason. 

So I fell for him. Quickly. And he noticed. Just as quickly. And after that night, and the subsequent awkward morning, he kept me at arm's length. 

And I blamed him not a bit, even as my heart made pathetic mewling noises deep in my chest.

That night changed very little over the next few days. David had never touched me much, probably sensing my aversion to it, and I had been asleep for the majority of my time in his home. It wasn't until my first day at the bookstore that I noticed just how uncomfortable my affection for him made him. 

And how little he believed in anything he couldn't see, hear, or touch.


	11. Welcome to the Family

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Zin meets _everyone_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really need to update this more often... my bad.

DAVID—

Zin's crush on me wouldn't have been so difficult to handle if I wasn't so wholly attracted to him. His every move, even while he was still bandaged up and beaten, God strike down my sick soul, made me hyper aware of how close he was, how easy it would be to reach out and touch him, grab him, press my body flush against his. I knew he had a sort of hero worship thing for me, and because I knew that's all it was, I kept him away, trying not to hurt him. With everything I feared the poor guy had gone through, I didn't want to add a cruel rejection to that list. So I treated him as I had before, just with a bit more caution and awareness. 

He healed quickly, and within a week he seemed ready to walk around enough to visit the doctor. I took him to my doctor, who gave him the go ahead to work, with various stipulations (no lifting, no standing for longer than 20 minutes at a time, etc.), and Zin was eager to get started. I scheduled him for a few short shifts for his first week, only 3 hours at a time, and I made sure Ben and Noah knew the stool beside the register now basically belonged to Zin. 

And finally he met them. Or, met them again. Along with _everyone else_. Noah and Ben had told the entire crew of the parlor next door, and a few other people from town, so when we stepped back into the store after Zin's check up, we were met with a lot of amused leers, laughter, and a few cheers. Ben had seemingly closed the store, and there was a table set up with food, liquor and beer. 

I had never seen Zin's face quite so red.

He was introduced to Ryder first, whom he seemed to melt beside after he shook his hand, as if he had only been holding himself up because Ryder hadn't been there to do it. I was glad I had introduced him to Ryder first, because he calmed immensely afterwards and almost seemed to flow through the rest of the room, only flinching a few times when things got too loud or someone touched him. I was glad that he seemed so at ease with the big, burly biker. 

I _was_. 

Noah went in for a hug— the man was like a soiled child when it came to touching, cuddling, and physical affection— which Zin deftly sidestepped. Noah took no offense, only chuckling and holding his hand out to shake. 

"Welcome to the family, Zin." 

I introduced Zin to Leslie, who looked like she wanted to grab his cheeks and squeeze, like a toddler, and then Jake, who was in his full sheriff's uniform. If I thought Zin melted for Ryder, his body managed the opposite when he stood in front of Jake. The tall, broad sheriff looked down at him with a gentle smile, but Zin backed into me until I had to grip his forearms to keep us both from tumbling back 

"Zin, you met Jake at the Urgent Care, but you were a bit doped up so you probably don't remember. He's an old friend of mine. He and his son live just a few buildings down."

"It's nice to meet you, sir," Zin murmured, his eyes steadfastly fixed on his feet. 

"Please call me Jake, Zin. Not only do I feel like a major stick in the mud among these guys already half of the time, but you're making me feel old. Stop it."

At that moment, Noah's loud laughter distracted Jake, who stared past Zin and me, his eyes fixating just behind us. Which is why he didn't notice the sudden faraway look in Zin's eyes, or the way he sort of jerked, hiccuped, then sighed and met my eyes before looking away quickly. 

"This is the Now. Not the Then, and not yet the Will Be," Zin whispered to himself, like a mantra, repeating it twice more before he took a deep breath and met my eyes again. 

"Now that I've met half the town, may I have some food? I'm starving."


	12. This is the Now

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Trigger warning: Zin has some vision flashbacks**

Zin—

_This is the Now. Not the Then, and not yet the Will Be._

With so many people around me, in such a crowded place, my mantra to try to keep my mind in the Now became almost a prayer. Especially when I came into contact with Noah, who had a surprisingly similar childhood to mine. Unlike me, he had a family, but to me his family seemed far crueler than any of my pimps, tormentors or bullies had been— if only because they were his _family_ , and were never meant to hurt him. 

I was confused by David's friends' behavior at first— why were they practically throwing a welcome party for a stranger? 

But after a few stories told— against David's wishes— I began to understand. David's behavior, in picking me up, helping me, taking me in, was all very out of character for him. Although only a couple knew the full extent of what he had done for me— most were only told I was an old friend who had come across hard times and needed a place to stay— they expressed their excitement at his attention to me. He was, they told me, a bit of a hermit. He basically slept, worked in his store when he had to, and read. They only got him to go out with them rarely, and when they did, they had to cajole, bribe, and force him. 

_This is the Now. Not the Then, and not yet the Will Be._

Leslie's "current boo," as she called the woman, whose actual name was Caly, she had brought to the welcome party, had suggested a game of beer pong, and everyone was happily throwing and chugging. The two couples— the veterinarian Landon and his husband Marc, and the doctor Arthur and his wife Joanna— had left about thirty minutes before, to many boos and catcalls from an inebriated group of leering men. Leslie and her boo had been MIA at the time, and I had been fighting back the images that were rushing through my mind of what was happening in the storage closet just a few feet away.

_Leslie's tongue digging, fighting to find just... that... spot. Caly muffling her scream in her palm, her eyes clenched shut as her thighs tightened around Leslie's head, her back arching almost painfully as her body shattered, her scream barely contained by the soft skin of her—_

_—This is the Now. Not the Then, and not yet the Will Be... This is the Now. Not the Then, and not yet the Will Be... This is the Now. Not the Then, and not yet the Will Be._

With difficulty, I brought myself back to the Now, from the Then, and away from the Will Be. I stared at Caly, throwing back the last of the beer in her cup, as the sheriff sat on one side of me, and Ryder the other. 

Neither was paying me any attention, though. It took everything in me to keep my mind out of the dozens of visions and possible futures that were fluttering around at the edges of my mind. 

The ones of Ben and Ryder, where both forgot their pride, their insecurities, and the things that held them back and just let themselves _be_. 

And the ones of Noah and Sheriff Jake, where Jake pushes past a lifetime of thinking he was someone and only just finding a new facet of himself. And where Noah learns what love and affection are _supposed_ to feel like— love that doesn't have to be bought, or earned, or fought for. 

_This is the Now. Not the Then, and not yet the Will Be._

I tried not to groan aloud as I let my head fall into my hands, but I was overwhelmed. Maybe it was that it had been too long since I had been among this many minds, this many auras and futures and possible fates. Maybe it was the pain medicine dulling my control over my Sight. Or maybe it was something else altogether, but something was making me feel as if I was 11 again, just discovering the visions and not knowing how to get them to stop, or understanding even what they were. 

"You ready to go, Zin?" the sheriff whispered, his fingers lightly touching my arm. The touch was gentle, and he hadn't meant any harm, but with the touch my control fell completely. 

_Lyle's hands holding me down. His body heaving on top of me._

_Pain. So much pain._

I could feel myself gasping, the tears pouring down my face, but I couldn't stop it. I couldn't stop any of it. 

_The mother's small, soft, delicate hands. Perfectly manicured. Covered in her child's blood._

_"Stop, Noah," she begged, shaking her head frantically. "Just stop this. Don't egg him on. He'll stop hurting you if you just give in."_

My gasps and sobs turned to shudders as I felt my body lifted and the jolting of heavy footsteps as I was carried like a child out of the bright lights of the party and into the soft darkness of the stairs that led up to David's apartment. 

_Yes. Home. Take me home. Please._

I wasn't sure if I said the words aloud, or if they were only in my head, but the deep, raspy voice above me made my entire body tremble and then fall relaxed against his arms. 

Just as he had relaxed me the moment we met. 

"Shhh," Ryder whispered reassuringly, holding me tightly against his chest, his steady, thundering heartbeat a calming metronome against my ear. "Everything's gonna be alright." 

_The pounding of his own heart in the soldier's ears was all at once reassuring and terrifying. He couldn't fuck this up. The rest of his men— those who had survived— were counting on him. He had to get back. Alive. Or they wouldn't._

_This was their last chance._

_He raised the stolen rifle to his shoulder, sighted his target, and took a deep breath._

One bullet, _he repeated, over and over in his mind. Almost like a prayer._ One more and then I'm never comin' back to this Godforsaken place. 

_As he pulled the trigger, the face that flashed through his mind brought him peace. The face of the little boy, crying as he held his broken toy spaceship, looking up at him in his full gear as if he were a superhero._

_"I'm sorry they broke your toy, Benny," Ryder said as he crouched in front of the child and brushed his tears away. "But remember— "_

"Is he doing better?" a voice cut in, Ben's voice, the voice of the child, now a man, staring at me as if I had grown a second head. 

_Oh God, what did I do?_

I couldn't remember what had been real, and what had been vision. What had been Now and what had been Then. It had all crashed through me violently, and even now more images were trying to yank me back down. 

"He's... I think he's gonna be fine." Ryder still held me clutched to his chest, my weight probably feeling like a small puppy in his massive arms, pressed up against his hard-as-rock pecs. "Did everyone leave?" 

Ben hesitated, his eyes shifting to meet mine before he nodded. "Noah was... um, he was real upset."

"What did I..." I began, but Ryder shook his head. 

"Just relax, little man," he said gently, squeezing just a bit as he smiled down at me. "Everything's gonna be alright. Noah'll be fine. The guy's tougher than he looks."

"Where... where's David?" I asked quietly, suddenly certain of the irrational fear that I had scared him away with my fit. 

"He went out a few minutes before you, uh..." Ben paused, meeting Ryder's eye before looking back into mine. "He left to walk Leslie and Caly home. They were drunk as hell. He should be back soon."

"What did I say? Why was Noah upset? Please. Please tell me."

Ryder and Ben exchanged another look before Ryder shrugged and rubbed a soothing hand down my arm. I wondered momentarily when he would notice he was still holding me. And that Ben was trying desperately not to glare at the lingering contact. 

"You said some things... Things you shouldn't have known. You, uh, you seem to make a habit of that, huh?"

I closed my eyes and dug my face into Ryder's neck, taking deep breaths of his calming scent. 

Was there anything about the giant man that wasn't completely made to calm and soothe? Even his scent almost put me to sleep. 

I could feel a silent conversation above me, and then Ben's voice was breaking the tense silence. 

"His first day here— he came down looking for David and said something to me and Noah about... about some things he shouldn't know about. That's all." 

"Zin? Noah? Where is everyone?" David's voice echoed back to us, hidden in the little landing at the bottom of the stairs. And despite Ryder's calming presence, my breath ticked up and fear made me dizzy. 

I had hurt his friend. I had seemingly thrown a fit and was dragged out of a party. 

Would he kick me out? Would my Sight, the bane of my existence since I was a child, take one more thing from me?


	13. Believe Me

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Life sucks so my updating has been sporadic at best... sorry

David—

Coming back to an empty store when I had left 5 men lounging around, sipping beers and trying to stay awake, was disconcerting. It grew scary when I called out for everyone and only Ben's soft, timid, hesitant voice answered me from the stair landing that led up to me apartment. 

And then it turned a sick shade of horrifying when I saw Ben, pale and almost scared, slouched beside a stoic Ryder, who held a limp, sobbing Zin against his massive chest. Zin looked positively tiny against the giant, and I swore that the flare of jealousy that flushed through me at the sight would never see the light of day again. 

"What's going on?" I demanded, fighting the insane and overpowering urge to step up to Ryder and rip Zin from his heavily muscled arms. 

Ben and Ryder exchanged a glance as Zin whimpered and dug his face into Ryder's shirt, a shudder visibly wracking his body. 

"Zin?" I said gently, finally being rewarded with Zin's blotchy, pale face gazing at me with a sort of faraway look in his eyes that had me cringing instinctively. "You alright, sweetheart?"

Zin nodded reluctantly, and then moved out of Ryder's arms and straight into mine. Ryder and Ben exchanged another look, and then they mumbled something about locking the door and they were gone. 

"I'm sorry, David," Zin whispered, so quietly I wouldn't have heard him if all of my senses hadn't already been on full alert. He was still shaking, taking deep breaths as he pressed his face tightly against my chest. I tried to ignore the way he seemed to fit perfectly there in my arms, tucked up tight against my body. How right he felt there. How warm and pliant and good he felt, his soft body against my hard edges. 

"Let's go upstairs, huh?" I murmured. When I felt Zin nod against me, I pulled away just enough to tuck him up against my side and half-drag him up the stairs. When we moved into my apartment, the kitten let us know how she felt about being left alone for such an extended period with low whines and protestations. Zin scooped her up, digging his nose into her neck and clenching his eyes shut as I locked the door and led him to the couch. 

Once Zin was settled on the couch, I pulled away and knelt in front of him, gripping his knees until he looked up at me, almost mournfully.

"What happened, Zin? Why are you acting like you ran over my dog?"

"You don't have a dog," he muttered, and I scoffed. 

"It's an expression. C'mon. Talk to me, Zin. Did someone... Did someone do something you didn't like? They can be loud and abrasive, but I'm sure none of them—"

"No!" he cried, as if I had struck him. I jerked back, but the look on his face was reassuring. "No, your friends are wonderful. You're very lucky to have them. No one... no one did anything to me."

"Then what?"

It took another moment for Zin to look up again, meeting my eyes and shrugging. "I upset Noah."

Of all the things I thought I might hear about what had sent everyone home so quickly, made Ryder and Ben act like Zin was a walking time bomb, and sent Zin into a frenzy of fear and insecurity, hurting Noah was down there along with Zin being some kind of terrorist. It hadn't ever even registered.

"Noah? You... Zin, please. I'm sure you're mistaken, or—"

"I Saw something I shouldn't have Seen, and I said something. I don't even know what," he muttered, rubbing at his eyes as if to fight away the images behind them. "David, it's not something that's easy for me to explain."

My confusion had only heightened with his words, but I was nothing if not patient, so I waited, his heat beneath my hands calming me, and my gentle touch seeming to soothe him a bit as he finally began to relax back against the couch cushions. 

When he finally spoke, it was with a tinge of amusement, but mostly insecurity and hesitation. "I don't even know why I'm going to try to explain. You won't believe me. I know you won't... I see things, David. I know things I shouldn't know. I don't know why. I just have been able to do it since... well, for a long time. And sometimes, when I'm... not aware, I talk about what I'm Seeing. It's like sleep talking... And it can upset people. I can't... I don't know how to control it. I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to hurt Noah. I don't even know what I—"

"Alright," I cut in, gripping his hand that had fluttered down near my own on his knees when he seemed ready to spiral into an anxiety attack. "Alright, sweetheart, calm down. I'm sure it's fine. I'll talk to Noah, and see what happened. I'm sure it's not as big a deal as you think it is. Let's just get to bed, ok? I'm sure you're exhausted, because I know for sure I am."

Zin reluctantly followed as I led him to my bed, where he had continued to sleep despite being much more healed. He had repeatedly tried to move himself to the couch, but I had refused and all but carried him back to my bed— claiming he wasn't healed enough to sleep on the lumpy, hard couch. 

Really, I just loved seeing him in my bed. In my home. In my life. 

When I tucked him under the covers, his gaze bored into mine. 

"David, I know you don't believe me—" he began, but I cut him off. 

"It's ok," I whispered, daring to push the lock of hair that had fallen into his eyes away from his face. "I can see this... distresses you. But I'm sure Noah's not as upset as you seem to think."

Zin's smile was hesitant and uncertain. He looked away and then gripped my hand, his fingers digging into my skin. 

"I hope so," he whispered, his voice all but silent.


	14. Tarot Cards

Zin

I had wondered how exactly David was going to react to my admission, and completely ignoring most of what I had said was pretty much how I had thought he would handle what I had told him. He had successfully brushed over pretty much everything I had said, breaking it down to something rude I had said to Noah, and reassuring me that he would talk to him and we would get it figured out. 

Although I knew he was the only one that would be appeased that easily, I was grateful for being able to relax, at least for the night. I wouldn't have to worry about the consequences of my Sight, at least until morning.

Although I knew I would have to worry about the consequences, despite his reassurances. From their reactions, I had said things to or about Noah I shouldn't have known. And I would need to explain how I knew. 

It was never the explaining that got me into trouble. It was their reactions once they knew how I had known things about them they never wanted people to know.

I knew nothing I said to David tonight would sway him, so I kept silent after he reassured me again, and let myself be lulled to sleep by his soft breaths from the couch, and the warmth I could still feel where his fingers had brushed my face. 

The next morning was like the few before it. I woke when David exited the shower, and he dressed, then made breakfast while I showered and dressed. We ate breakfast almost silently, cleaned the dishes side by side, and then David moved toward the door, gesturing me to follow. 

With one last pat on Her Majesty's head, I followed David down the stairs. 

And into a completely silent bookshop. Ben had opened the store, but there were no customers and Ben was eerily quiet. He glanced up when David's heavy boots hit the wood floor, but his gaze fixed stubbornly away from me. 

"Morning," David called, sidling up to Ben with a sleepy smile. "Would you mind keeping an eye on the place for a few minutes with Zin? I'm going to head next door. I shouldn't be long."

_"Keep an eye on the freak so I can go assess the damage he caused_ ," I translated for David in my head, trying to keep my hands from shaking. I could feel Noah coming towards David's store, but I had no idea why. His aura was... hesitant. And sad. 

He could be coming to condemn me, or to forgive me. 

I couldn't tell which. 

I've never claimed my "gift" was reliable, have I?

I grabbed David's hand, flinching at the contact. My senses were always heightened that much more when I was skin-to-skin. It was one of the reasons I avoided touch. But with David, there was also a sort of calming effect. Although he caused my heart to race, my stomach to clench, and my face to heat, there was something he did to my soul, my mind, that loosened my shoulders and allowed me to breathe past the lump that had been in my throat since I had woken and the events of the night before flashed before my eyes.

"Just wait," I whispered, followed closely by the ringing of the bells above the front door, announcing Noah's entrance. 

"Morning," Noah called, turning to shut the door behind him and then smiling quietly up at David. 

Ben stared at me, his expression unreadable, but David only smiled back at Noah and nodded. 

"Morning, Noah. I was just coming over to see you."

Noah blushed sweetly, his mouth quirking into a self-deprecating smile. For such a beautiful man, there was a naive sort of sweetness to him that made me want to wrap him up and protect him from the cruelty the world could offer. 

"I came to apologize to Zin. I may have overreacted a little last night."

David met my probably totally shocked eyes with his own. I could see the smug arrogance, the clear _I told you so_  in his eyes and I had the sudden urge to kiss him, if only to get that look replaced with something else. 

"Me?" I managed to squeak, just barely able to meet Noah's eyes for a moment before looking away again, down at my feet. Meeting his eyes and seeing anything resembling pity, anger, or fear just might make me run back up to David's bed, hiding beneath the covers with Her Majesty the rest of the day. 

"Yeah," he said, taking a few steps towards me and holding out a package. It was a box wrapped in colorful wrapping paper, with a little blue bow on top. The excitement in the one word he spoke made me glance up and finally truly meet his eyes. He wasn't upset at all. He was nervous, and eager. Almost... giddy. 

"The wrapping paper is left over from Ryder's birthday party last month, but... Well, it's the thought that counts, right? I meant to give this to you last night. It's your welcome gift. But, well..." He broke off with that same self-deprecating smile I couldn't help but return as I took the box from him.

"Thank you," I said, trying to hold back the tears that threatened to fall at the gesture. 

I had never been given a wrapped present like this... Had I ever received a present at all?  

Dear God, I couldn't remember. 

"It's..." He seemed hesitant again, and looked back at Ben, who nodded to urge him on. "Well, we figured, with the tattoo, and the way you sort of guessed... things. Well..." 

I glanced down at the evil eye tattoo on the top my hand, above the junction where my thumb met my wrist, and bit my lip. 

It hadn't been a voluntary tattoo. Something Lyle forced on me to add to the allure of my Sight, to "the act." And it was, gratefully, fading quickly. Cheap ink mixed with where it was placed— on such a high traffic part of my body— was taking care of that. 

 I opened the gift gently, smiling when I unearthed a brand new, and slightly incorrect, tarot card deck. 

I looked up at Noah, then over at Ben, and burst into a sort of giddy, excited laughter. 

"Why tarot cards?" I asked, unsure why the gesture was coming to mean so much to me. Was it their seeming acceptance, or having a deck again, that was causing the light, airy feeling in my chest? 

"Well, you're... you're psychic aren't you?"

David snorted, and I tried to keep a straight face as I shrugged and fingered the cards. They were beautiful, in a printed, mundane, cookie cutter way. I had a flash of the set I had left behind in Lyle's apartment, hand-painted by a bruja I met when I was 15, but I shook the image off. 

"Maybe a little," I said, pulling the cards out and shifting through them, concentrating on the flashes of color they threw up with each turn. 

I had used tarot cards many times in the past, in my acts. It wasn't the cards themselves that I read, rather the energy people poured into them, waiting for me to pick them out, to read them out, to talk about what I Saw. There were a few other reasons I had used the cards, too. Being able to concentrate on something like shuffling the cards, folding them, picking them, kept my hands from shaking with nerves, and kept the attention of the person I was reading on them rather than me. This left me open to dig into myself, to try to pull out my gift— which was, as I've said, never truly reliable. 

And if it completely failed me, it gave me bullshit stories to tell. I could just read the cards like the next half-rate street charlatan, and I could mostly get away with the nonsense I spouted. 

"Want me to do a reading?" I asked Noah, looking at Ben as well so he knew I was including him. It had never been the readings I hated while I was with Lyle. I enjoyed seeing into people, giving them hope for what they asked me about— their hopes, their dreams. It was always the forced lies I had to give, because the clients always had to walk away happy— especially the rich ones—  when I was forced to work with Lyle. Even if I sensed something very different and wanted to warn them. There were many beatings started by my refusing to lie to a client. Or refusing a reading entirely, if the client's soul, or aura, whatever it is that I sensed when I touched another's skin, was so dark it made me nauseous.     

There were far too many of those brought to me by Lyle.  

But no, this. This joy I sensed, the fun that Noah and Ben would have with my readings. This, I had always loved. It had always been something that made me feel almost... normal. As strange as it was that doing exactly what made me _abnormal_ , made me feel _normal_.   

David seemed amused, disbelieving, but he stayed quiet and let us set up a little table in the back of the bookstore. I was grateful for that at least, and for his trust. He could very easily have assumed I was trying for a con. But somehow I seemed to have earned his trust. 

Ben chatted as we set up the table and chairs, about making some sort of event day. 

"It would bring in customers, David! How many bored housewives would come to have Zin— a real freakin' gypsy, accent and all!— Zin, you gotta make that accent thicker; you can barely hear it most of the time— read their futures! We would just need to make sure we were stocked up on like occult books and stuff like that. Maybe get some like crystal balls, some—"

David's laugh was mocking, but also sincere in his enjoyment of their amusement. "Sure, Ben. Put together a plan, like you did with the bakery, and I'll look it over. It's a good idea. But make sure Zin's willing."

"Well duh. We couldn't do it without him." Ben rolled his eyes and I laughed as I sat at the folding table, across from Noah, and began shuffling the tarot cards.

"Thank you," I whispered, knowing they could all hear me, but my words mostly for Noah. "I'm sorry about last night. Sometimes I can't—"

"It's ok," Noah whispered back, gently squeezing my hand and smiling. "I think I get it. Let's try not to repeat it, but yeah, it's alright."

I had never had anyone react the way they were. Disbelief, suspicion, even outright anger, I was used to. Even David's amused, adamant disbelief I was used to. 

Excited, playful acceptance with hardly a second thought I had never experienced.


	15. Unspoken Something

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> <3

David

Zin's first day in the store ended up being spent behind that damn table. During his "reading" of Noah, a few local women wandered in with paper coffee cups in hand, inexorably drawn to the little table in the back. By the time he had mumbled whatever nonsense that made Noah and Ben happy, there was a small crowd around Zin. 

He glanced at me a few times, biting his lip and looking worried. I assured him with a smile and a nod that I wasn't upset. How could I be upset? The store had never been so crowded, and I had over a dozen orders of some book on "spiritual living" that Zin had supposedly recommended. 

God, my attraction to him was so strange. We were exact opposites in so many ways, but this was one glaring thing we could never agree on. 

I respected his beliefs, and their fun, but was it true? 

Of course not. 

Zin agreed to do a couple of "readings," but I called a stop to it when his glances at me began to look a little weary. I dragged him upstairs, away from the dissenting crowd of at least a dozen people, hushing his objections that he hadn't even worked yet, and helped him back to bed with a pain pill.

"Doc's orders," I reminded him. "He said only a few hours at a time. You were down there for almost 4 hours."

"I was sitting the whole time!" he grumbled. 

I  ignored his continuing protestations, and lugged Her Majesty up to curl at his side. 

"I hope you're ok with that, because it sounds like you may become popular here. Small towns love stuff like that— anything to keep them from the monotony of their lives."

"Monotonous lives are beautiful." He sighed, leaning back and smiling softly at me. "And no, I don't mind. I like it. As long as you're ok with it, I'm good with whatever Ben wants to do. I would love it if it helped you make money—"

"I don't need more money, Zin. I don't want you doing it unless you want to. Don't think about me; think about if it's something you want to do. You're obviously good at it. You definitely worked that crowd. We'll set out a tip jar and see how things go. See if it's worth it for you."

His smile and nod was immediate, and I ruffled his hair before heading back down to Ben and Noah, who had put the table and chairs away. There were a few more people loitering around, browsing the books, mostly in the spiritual/religious section, but only a few.    

"Hurry up with that plan," I told Ben, smiling indulgently when he whooped and Noah broke into laughter. "He's in. Just keep it an event, and not a daily thing. I think he would need to get some sort of license if it was more than a few times. If it's popular, once a week would probably be ok."

"You're seriously the best!" Ben crowed, and ran over to the front register, where he pulled up an Excel sheet to work out his numbers.

When Ben had first come to work for me, he had given me the idea for the bakery/coffee corner he now ran. I had told him it was a great idea, but I wasn't good with the logistics and details. He came up with a sort of business plan, and I ran with it. It had been immensely successful, and he now ran it as an almost separate business. I had recently even begun to think of buying one of the small shops adjoining my store and helping him open his own bakery... 

Just a thought I'd been playing with. Not much more yet. 

 ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

A week went by before Zin's first official "reading." Ben's event plan had involved social media advertising, a free crystal with each reading (barely fifty cents each to buy in bulk), and a list of Zin's favorite "spiritual guides." Even Zin seemed a bit amused by the last bit, and I outright laughed when I read over it. 

"You a self-help guru now?" I teased, and Zin only rolled his eyes and ignored me. 

Zin said yes to everything but the advertising. The tinge of fear in his voice made me put my foot down against Ben's cajoling. Ben reluctantly agreed to only run a small advert in the local paper, which was run by a cousin of Ben's (who wasn't he related to?), who did the advert for free in exchange for a reading. Zin only agreed to that because Ben said he wouldn't use Zin's name. 

I had guessed Zin was hiding from someone, but those actions only solidified the thoughts for me. 

His first week at the store flew by. He was a quick learner, and he was good with people, if a bit shy, and almost frustratingly jumpy. The regulars soon learned to make noise if they were coming up behind him, to announce themselves if he was staring off, not paying attention and didn't realize they were there, and to never touch him. Especially to grab his attention when he zoned out.

Which he did _often_ , let me tell you. 

We also got plenty of curious people coming in to either meet the new person in town, or because they had heard stories about his "clairvoyance." He treated each of these delicately, always worried I would get angry that they were there for him instead of to shop at the store. I knew the excitement would die down, so I paid no mind for the most part. But soon, what had seemed amusing at first began to grate on my nerves— but only for Zin's sake. I didn't mind the curious, bored townspeople loitering around. But I feared Zin would feel taken advantage of. Each night as we ate dinner together, he had to reassure me all over again that he didn't mind. 

"I enjoy it," he whispered one night, a few days before his first official reading. "I'm glad I can try to help people now, rather than—" He cut himself off, blushing furiously, before hastily standing to clear the table. 

I had learned quickly that when he was done talking, he was _done talking_. No amount of cajoling on my end would get him to talk about what he had stopped himself from talking about. 

But with each new day, I learned something more about him.

And none of it helped the damn crush I had on him that wouldn't go away.

Nor the one he tried to hide from me. 

I learned he loved spicy food— the kind of food that could make a grown man cry. I learned he hated milk, but enjoyed milk chocolate with a sort of naive joy that was almost difficult to see, it seemed so pure. He told me of living on the streets most of his life, and admitted he had done things he wasn't proud of for a roof and food. 

Not that I could ever judge that. God, I couldn't even imagine the things he would have had to do, at such a young age, for only the bare necessities that should have been a given to a child. 

Despite my reassurances, he still seemed ashamed to talk in detail about too much, but his joy that I was letting him do his little act showed me he had been forced to rely on that far too much. What seemed to bring him joy, had at some been turned into something he hated.

And he was getting it back for himself.

I was oddly proud of him, although I didn't fully understand all of the circumstances or details. I could tell this reading meant a lot to him, though. 

I learned very quickly his aversion to touch. From anyone but me. God, he reveled in my touching him, my ruffling his hair back, my arms brushing against his in my tiny kitchen. He soaked in the small touches, and I had to hold back every moment to not reach out and pull him to me. 

But I wouldn't. I couldn't. He wasn't mine, and he never could be.  

The only other person Zin seemed to be as comfortable with was Ryder. Something about the giant hulk of a biker calmed Zin into jelly. The man walked in the room and without even looking up, Zin's muscles unclenched and a soft smile lit his lips.

I wish I could say I was mature enough to admit it wasn't my business, and I had no say over who Zin did or didn't feel... anything for. 

But I wasn't. I repeatedly pushed Ryder away, canceling our plans to go out drinking, trying to keep him away. But the big lug just came by the store to get me, and I was forced to watch Zin melt in his arms as Ryder, who I had never seen hug anyone, pulled the much smaller man into his arms. 

There was a sort of unspoken _something_ between them. A comradeship that I just didn't understand. It didn't seem sexual, or at least I tried to tell myself it didn't. It was almost... fraternal. 

And it was instant. They never even talked, they just started hugging each other every time they met. 

But if I was too old for Zin, Ryder sure was. He was 8 months older than me, damn him. 

And if their damned hugs weren't enough, Zin started bringing Ryder coffee in the morning, coming back beaming and relaxed, and I knew they'd spent the whole 20 minutes he'd been over there hugging, cuddling. It made my skin itch and my fingers twitch to reach out and yank that small, compact body into mine.

But I refrained. It wouldn't be right. Zin was hurt, had obviously just gotten out of some kind of abusive relationship. And he was at least 15 years my junior. 

He deserved someone his own age. Someone who would treat him right. Walk him to the door and kiss him after a date. 

I grunted at the thought, my chest tightening, getting a strange look from Zin, who only smiled delicately before going back to stocking the mystery section. I wanted to kick myself for making weird growling noises when we were there alone, no customers in sight. He probably thought I was insane.


End file.
